Man in the Iron Mask by Dumas, Alexandre part one

“Yes, I shall sign.”

“You will deliver yourself up, then, bound hand and foot, from a false notion of honor, which the most scrupulous casuists would disdain?”

“I shall sign,” repeated Fouquet.

Aramis sighed deeply, and looked all round him with the impatient gesture of a man who would gladly dash something to pieces, as a relief to his feelings. “We have still one means left,” he said; “and I trust you will not refuse to make use of that?”

“Certainly not, if it be loyal and honorable,- as everything is, in fact, which you propose.”

“I know nothing more loyal than a renunciation of your purchaser. Is he a friend of yours?”

“Certainly; but-”

“‘But’!- if you allow me to manage the affair, I do not despair.”

“Oh, you shall be absolute master!”

“With whom are you in treaty? What man is it?”

“I am not aware whether you know the parliament?”

“Most of its members. One of the presidents, perhaps?”

“No; only a counsellor-”

“Ah, ah!”

“Who is named Vanel.”

Aramis became purple. “Vanel!” he cried, rising abruptly from his seat, “Vanel! the husband of Marguerite Vanel?”

“Exactly.”

“Of your former mistress?”

“Yes, my dear fellow. She is anxious to be Madame the Procureuse-General. I certainly owed poor Vanel that slight concession; and I am a gainer by it, since I at the same time confer a pleasure on his wife.”

Aramis walked straight to Fouquet, and took hold of his hand. “Do you know,” he said very calmly, “the name of Madame Vanel’s new lover?”

“Ah! she has a new lover, then? I was not aware of it; no, I have no idea what his name is.”

“His name is M. Jean Baptiste Colbert; he is intendant of the finances; he lives in the Rue Croix-des-Petits-Champs, where Madame de Chevreuse has this evening carried Mazarin’s letters, which she wishes to sell.”

“Gracious Heaven!” murmured Fouquet, passing his hand across his forehead, from which the perspiration was starting.

“You now begin to understand, do you not?”

“That I am lost,- yes.”

“Do you now think it worth while to be so scrupulous with regard to keeping your word?”

“Yes,” said Fouquet.

“These obstinate people always contrive matters in such a way that one cannot but admire them,” murmured Aramis.

Fouquet held out his hand to him; and at the very moment a richly ornamented tortoise-shell clock, supported by golden figures, which was standing on a console table opposite to the fireplace, struck six. The sound of a door opening in the vestibule was heard.

“M. Vanel,” said Gourville, at the door of the cabinet, “inquiries if Monseigneur can receive him.”

Fouquet turned his eyes from those of Aramis and replied, “Let M. Vanel come in.”

Chapter X: M. Colbert’s Rough Draught

VANEL, who entered at this stage of the conversation, was for Aramis and Fouquet the full stop which terminates a sentence. But, for Vanel, Aramis’s presence in Fouquet’s cabinet had quite another signification. At his first step into the room he fixed upon the delicate yet firm countenance of the Bishop of Vannes a look of astonishment which soon became one of scrutinizing inquiry. As for Fouquet, a true politician,- that is to say, complete master of himself,- he had already, by the energy of his own resolute will, contrived to remove from his face all traces of the emotion which Aramis’s revelation had occasioned. He was no longer, therefore, a man overwhelmed by misfortune and reduced to expedients; he held his head proudly erect, and extended his hand with a gesture of welcome to Vanel. He was prime minister; he was in his own house. Aramis knew the superintendent well; the delicacy of the feelings of his heart and the exalted nature of his mind could no longer surprise him. He confined himself, then, for the moment- intending to resume later an active part in the conversation- to the difficult role of a man who looks on and listens in order to learn and understand.

Vanel was visibly overcome, and advanced into the middle of the cabinet, bowing to everything and everybody.

“I am come,” he said.

“You are exact, M. Vanel,” returned Fouquet.

“In matters of business, Monseigneur,” replied Vanel, “I look upon exactitude as a virtue.”

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